The Fitting
by Dani Jones
Summary: Does age change a vampire? Aro has a request for Renata, and it troubles her more than anything has before.


If I knew no better, I'd have thought that Master Aro had lost his delicate mind.

My Master was sweet; docile, even – especially in his old age. The hintings of insanity seemed to be lessened and forgotten when he spoke to me in that way that way that assured me I was his favorite. Though I knew he had other preferences, I never felt that way in his presence. Like a cherished pet, he smoothed the top of my head when he spoke to me. In any other setting, I would have found the gesture to be demeaning, but from him…it was everything.

"My dearest Renata…" he mused, his voice almost sang as he spoke lightly, as if exploring a new idea that he found titillating. "Our eyes – your other Masters and mine – they are changing. They have changed already; like the beginning of a new blossom at the end of a life. It makes me wonder what other changes our bodies will undergo."

I was frightened when he spoke in that way. Though it was flippant and almost carefree, the matter of which he spoke was not. Master Aro had a way of making something terrible sound harmless, sometimes even delightful. It made me wonder if his words held any weight in his mind, or if they were simply musings of a man whose mind was not what it once was. Not that it had decreased in function, no. One that was overloaded – that knew too much. I cannot imagine what it must be like – re-exploring things you were so sure of after learning something new, or even adding to your collective memory things that were the thoughts and memories of others.

I think that after enough years, everyone would be the _same_. His artificial zeal and excitement was painful, sometimes, when he read the minds of his meals before smiting them with an easy backhand. How boring the human race must really be.

Thinking of it for too long hurt my head. I could never keep up with Master Aro's musings.

"In what way, Master?" I asked, shifting on my feet even though I didn't need to. I grasped my skirt in one hand, feeling the fabric. It was imperfect and less expensive than the clothing of my peers, but I preferred dresses that could be ruined. Ruining a masterpiece was painful. Even though we rarely repeated clothing, I kept my favorites near.

"I do wonder if I've shrunk."

I almost giggled. Shrunk? What a ridiculous concept! My Master was smaller in stature, but no less regal. I suppose that he was taller than many of the other men in his time, as history will prove. I think that maybe Master Marcus must have been a giant among men. The thought amused me.

"Shrunk? Like a human man aging?" I replied, keeping my voice innocent.

He chortled. "Yes, such as that."

Silence descended before I spoke again, trying to figure out where he was trying to steer the conversation.

"…would you like me to measure you, Master?"

"Oh, would you? _Grazie_ , _piccolina!"_

I knew that his surprise was feigned. To be attended to is what Aro always desired. I am not sure if he is in need of constant reassurance, or if he was simply…lonely.

Though I'd never ruled an entire race before, I imagine that I would be absolutely exhausting. To be completely honest, I had no idea how he managed it all. I think I would have lost my…

 _Mind._

I looked at Master in a new light, accepting the idea that perhaps he was simply mad. Madness comes in many forms, but they are all accepted by their holder as fact – as their undeniable reality. That is what makes insanity so frightening.

Aro strode with a bounce in his step, opening the door to his elegant chambers. At the foot of a rich and thick velvet couch stood a station of five mirrors, all full-length and sparkling, perfectly clean. Aro pushed a stool over with his foot, the stool only maybe six or eight inches off of the ground, and stepped atop it. He stood proudly, shedding his outer jacket and tossing it onto the rack beside the mirrors.

I cleared my throat – more as a nervous gesture – and withdrew a roll of measuring tape out of her pocket that I had grabbed on the way to his chambers, having stolen it from Heidi's sewing kit. I let it unroll itself to the floor, holding the one end. I approached him carefully, starting by measuring across his shoulders, looking at the increments. The same he was over 3000 years ago.

Next, I went from the shoulders down his arm to the wrist.

The same.

Following that, I went across his chest, around his waist, then knelt awkwardly beside him as she measured down the outside of his leg, hesitating as I reached around to measure the inside of his leg, coming within inches of his intimates. I swallowed, jumping when Aro chuckled.

"Such a shy little one."

I measured as quickly as I could, knowing that my face would be flushed if blood flowed through my body. I finished, standing up in front of him. How close we were to one another, his head above mine because of the stool. He lifted a hand, touching my cheek softly. My Master's touch was always welcome, but after our somewhat intimate session, I felt ashamed and sinful.

"What are they?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"The…the very same, Master."

Aro looked at me for several moments, his expression unreadable. Finally, he gave a quick 'hmph', stepping down from the stool. I was breathless as we separated. Aro put his jacket back on, the movement fluid and well practiced. He buttoned the three down the front, turning back to her.

"I suppose I have not shrunk after all."

His voice was not laced with humor, not even with his usual contented cheer. He looked almost _disappointed_ , as if these facts were not to his liking. He clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward to kiss my forehead, and was then gone. I stood there in his chambers, completely stunned. His behavior was becoming more and more erratic.

There were no vampires older than the Volturi Masters. Perhaps, just perhaps…vampires aged as well. The Master's white scleras of their eyes were no longer, but replaced with a milky and somewhat dirty appearance. Their skin had an onion-like appearance, not like the pure marble of the other vampires around him. Even I, who was upwards of 800 years old, could not imagine existing long enough to experience ill effects.

Maybe my Master was discovering something…perhaps he wasn't truly mad. I am troubled by this, even as I sit by myself, thinking of the happening - worrying about my Master. Whether the changes happening to him were true or not, the idea would render him unquestionably unstable.

I chewed on my lower lip with a whimper, leaving his luscious chambers to hide in a small, unoccupied guest room. Having been in the Volturi since I was changed into a vampire, I knew this would soon upset the balance. This upset may defeat the Volturi from the inside.

I scoffed at myself; I was being completely ridiculous. That couldn't happen with Master in charge.

Could it?


End file.
